


A Bitter Kind of Love

by gh0stberry



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Flower Language, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Some tags omitted due to spoilers, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-16 23:10:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8121265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gh0stberry/pseuds/gh0stberry
Summary: After about an hour of research and insistence to his mother that he’ll eat dinner later, Leo has learned two things. The first is that what Leo had coughed up is definitely a flower petal. He thinks it’s a camellia, but it’s hard to tell because it’s wrinkled and slimy and Leo doesn’t really know anything about flowers in the first place. The second is that there is a disease, the symptoms of which include coughing up flower petals, that people can contract when whoever loves them doesn’t love them back. Leo is 80% sure he has it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [satyrgod](https://archiveofourown.org/users/satyrgod/gifts).



> this is for case cuz he's the mvp and he's put up with all my enstars rambling for like 3 months now and he let me pull him into rarepair hell countless times. sorry it took like 2 months man ily
> 
> also thank u to saori for reading this over kinda last min ily too
> 
> i pulled flower meanings from [here](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hanakotoba) if you're into that kinda thing

The first time it happens, Leo is genuinely shocked. It starts with a tickle in the back of his throat. He runs a hand through his hair, pulling it out of its elastic band, and hopes he’s not getting sick. He thinks he remembers the newbie saying something about lack of sleep making one more prone to illness. Or maybe it was Naru? Whoever it was, Leo hopes they’re wrong. He doesn’t have time to be sick. 

The tickle in his throat gets worse as the day goes on, hitting ‘scratchy’ just after lunch. There’s an ache in his chest too, and Leo’s out of breath from just walking home at the end of the day. 

He disappears into his room, dumping his school bag onto his desk and retrieving his notebook. Inspiration was hard to come by when all his attention is focused on his stupid throat, but he figures he has to try at least. 

He coughs, once, into his hand, trying to get the ache to go away or at least lessen. Instead, he makes it worse. Now it feels like something is caught in his throat. He gags, and coughs a few more times until something falls past his lips.

It’s small, and red, and kind of wet, which shouldn’t really surprise him considering where it came from. He catches it in his hand and examines it closely. It’s… a flower petal?

After about an hour of research and insistence to his mother that he’ll eat dinner later, Leo has learned two things. The first is that what Leo had coughed up is definitely a flower petal. He _thinks_ it’s a camellia, but it’s hard to tell because it’s wrinkled and slimy and Leo doesn’t really know anything about flowers in the first place. The second is that there is a disease, the symptoms of which include coughing up flower petals, that people can contract when whoever loves them doesn’t love them back. Leo is 80% sure he has it. 

He lays on his bed, composing abandoned, as he contemplates his current situation. Leo is in love with someone. Somehow. Apparently. But who? And how has he not realized before now? 

He lies there, questions bouncing around in his brain, waiting for sleep to finally overtake him. When it does come, it’s fitful. He tosses and turns, waking up every few hours or so until the obnoxious ring of his phone alarm gets him up for good. 

He dresses and eats breakfast in a haze and trudges to school. When he arrives, he collapses into his chair and drops his head onto the desk.

Now that he’s here, the scratching sensation in his throat is back, and Leo is seized by the sudden impulse to hide it. It’s not weird, he thinks, to hide something like this. Especially when he doesn’t know who the feelings are for. 

Thankfully, he makes it through his morning classes, and he only has to excuse himself to the bathroom once. He coughs up more camellias, both red and white this time. He flushes them down the toilet.

Once lunchtime rolls around, he makes his way (slowly) to the garden terrace. Usually he brings his own lunch, or buys it from the school store, or just skips lunch altogether, but Izumi had asked to meet him on the terrace today to go over lyrics, and Leo couldn’t refuse. 

When he reaches the edge of the terrace, Leo spots the last person he wants to see at this moment. Or any moment, really. There at a table in the center sits the “emperor”, Eichi Tenshouin. He’s talking to that first year from his unit, Leo can’t remember the kid’s name. Just the sight of Eichi makes Leo feel like he’s been sucker punched, and it takes him a minute to realize he’s slumped over, holding himself up with one hand on the table nearest to him. The people at the table share looks somewhere between startled and worried.

The tickle is unbearable and his stomach churns. Leo claps a hand over his mouth to stop himself from spitting flowers everywhere. 

“‘m gonna hurl,” he mutters, more for their benefit than his own, and turns tail and flees. He stumbles into the nearest bathroom, thankful that it’s empty, and locks himself in a stall.

He coughs, and coughs, and coughs. Soggy petals fall from his lips, sticking to his chin and his jacket and falling to the floor. It’s more petals than he’d ever coughed up before. 

Before he’s even finished, Leo is struggling to stand up. Like hell he’ll give in to whatever weird plant is growing in his lungs. He wipes his mouth with his uniform sleeve, collecting the sticking petals. Yellow tulips and white chrysanthemums. He’s going to be sick again.

He returns to class when the bell rings, and miraculously makes it through the rest of the day. He excuses himself to the bathroom twice more to cough up flowers. The red camellias are back, mixing with the irises beginning to work their way up his throat.

When the last bell rings, Leo all but flees his classroom, heading straight for the front gate. He knows Izumi will be pissed, but he skips practice. It becomes a new routine.

His days pass in a blur of classes and shortened practices and rushed dashes to bathrooms whenever he feels the flowers coming back. One week becomes two, two weeks become a month, one month becomes three, and Leo forgets what it feels like to breathe painlessly.

* * *

Leo is used to being the last one to show up to practice, so when he enters the rehearsal room to see only Izumi standing before him, he lets confusion get the better of him and drops his guard. 

“Why are you the only one here, Sena? Ah, don’t tell me, the others were abducted by aliens, weren’t they?” Leo forces himself to sound cheery, trying to ignore the way what little oxygen is left in his lungs rushes out when he sees Izumi’s scowl. It’s a familiar scowl, but Izumi hasn’t directed it at him in a long time. His skin crawls.

“Aliens aren’t real, stupid king. I told them to take their time.” Izumi steps forward, grabbing Leo by the arm before he can react. “I wanted to talk to you _alone_ for a minute.”

“Wait, Sena–” Leo protests as Izumi drags him from the room, stomping down the hallway and around a corner. He snags a finger on the first door and throws it open, pushing Leo inside before following and shutting the door behind him.

Leo stumbles backwards, one hand shooting out behind him to steady himself on a table in the center of the small room. His hand skids for a second in the dust before finding purchase and he rights himself quickly.

Izumi stands in front of the door, hands in his pockets, tapping one foot angrily and sending dust into the air. The motes dance in the sunlight shining through the window before resettling on the various music stands and piles of crumbling sheet music scattered around the room.

“Alright, _King,_ let’s not beat around the bush here. When were you planning to tell us?”

That catches Leo off guard. “Huh?”

Izumi glares at him and removes one hand from his pocket. He lifts his fist and opens it slowly; Leo watches in poorly disguised horror as white petals fall to the floor, the gardenia disintegrating in Izumi’s uncaring palm.

“I found them in the practice room last week,” Izumi continues quietly. “Left something behind, and when I came back to look–”

“–there were flowers in the trash,” Leo finishes, dropping his gaze to the floor. He wants to curse himself. He remembers the day well. He’d been forced to end practice early, claiming to have been struck by inspiration and in need of time alone. The rest if his unit had just barely made it out the door when Leo had lost control and almost carpeted the floor with gardenias. 

Stupid, stupid! He should’ve known stuffing them in the trash can wouldn’t have been enough! Suddenly, another thought enters his mind, and Leo’s head shoots up again. Panic surges through his veins as he takes in the flower in Izumi’s bare hand. His research from weeks ago is coming back to him.

“Sena, no!” Leo lunges forward in a panic, as if he can stop Izumi from contracting the disease too if he can get the flowers out of his hand fast enough. As if one simple touch wasn’t enough to doom him.

Izumi sidesteps him, catching Leo by the wrist and stopping him in his tracks. 

“Worried I’ll catch it?” Izumi asks with a sardonic smile. His voice is surprisingly bitter. “Don’t worry, I won’t. I can’t.”

Leo stares at him, confused. “That kid…” he mutters. “That… Yuuki? What about him?”

Izumi lips curl into a grimace and he laughs. One short laugh that hurts more than a knife against Leo’s face. “Yeah. Yuu-kun. If you’re worried about me and Yuu-kun, you’re a few years too late.”

Understanding blooms in Leo’s mind like the flowers in his lungs: slow and irreversible. “When?” he whispers.

Izumi’s eyes flutter shut, as if he doesn’t want to remember, but he opens them a moment later with a harsh exhale. “My third year of junior high. Back when we were still… not like this. I… got too clingy and he,” Izumi’s voice breaks. The rest comes out as a whisper. “He said he hated me. So I got it removed.”

It feels like a shard of ice is working its way toward Leo’s heart. “But you still–”

“Yeah,” Izumi says, voice flat. He’s good at not showing his emotions, but Leo’s known him for too long. It’s been awhile since he’s seen him this upset. “What’s the point in breaking the habit when I’ve already ruined everything?”

Leo stays silent, knowing Izumi doesn’t need him to answer. After a moment, Izumi huffs and stuffs the mangled flower back into his pocket. “I didn’t come here to cry about my past, you know. I asked you a question, King.”

Leo purses his lips. _When were you planning to tell us?_ If he’s being truthful, he hadn’t planned on it. One look into Izumi’s eyes tells him that’s not an option, though. He swallows. Hard. “Um…”

Izumi glares at him. “Fine. Don’t answer me. At least tell me who it is. We can _help_ you, Leo. All of us in Knights, that’s what we’re here _for_.” The combined use of his name and the desperation creeping into Izumi’s voice twists Leo’s heart. Then he remembers Eichi’s smile as the audience voted unanimously for him, shattering Leo’s hopes the same way he had Itsuki’s, and Rei’s, and all the others’. It had been less than a year, but the image was burned into his mind. Leo feels the flowers again, threatening to choke him.

White roses fall from his lips as he croaks out a response. “I… can’t. I’m sorry, Sena. I–” he breaks off to cough again. Heather joins the roses on the floor. Izumi stands, silent and obstinate, before the door, watching Leo until he’s done.

“I can’t believe you,” is all he says when the fit is over. “No, wait, yes I can. This is so _stupid._ Can’t you see it’s killing you?!” Izumi cries out in frustration. “You’re such an idiot!”

Leo reaches out, needing to touch Izumi, needing to make him understand, in a way words can’t convey, but it’s too late. The door slams shut behind his friend, leaving Leo alone with his flowers and his thoughts.

* * *

_We can help you!_

Leo grits his teeth, shoving the thought aside. Why can’t he get Izumi’s words from the week before out of his head?

 _How, Sena?_ he thinks dispiritedly. _How are you supposed to help me when I fell for someone like Eichi Tenshouin?_

Leo climbs the stairs slowly. He should’ve gone to practice, honestly, but he didn’t want to endure another two hours of dark looks and scowls.

 _It’s because you’re being stubborn,_ he reminds himself. _You brought this on yourself when you said you wouldn’t tell him anything._

Leo wanders aimlessly, pondering his unit members’ reactions if he were to tell them what was really going on. Naru would be surprised, he decides, and giggle like a schoolgirl with a secret. Sena would still be angry, probably. Suo, appalled. Easy. Ritsu… Ritsu he isn’t sure about. Ritsu was mysterious. An enigma. Everything Leo wanted to be to those who didn’t know him, once.

“Ah, Tsukinaga-kun.”

Leo freezes, waiting a few moments before forcing himself to turn around slowly. He’d walked right past the student council room without even realizing it, and now, here stands their president, all benevolent smiles and soft words, right in front of him. The flowers are bitter under his tongue.

“Tsukinaga-kun?” Eichi repeats. “What are you doing here? Did you have business with the student council? I’m afraid it’s only me at the moment, but if you’d like…” Eichi holds the door open, a question in his eyes, and Leo follows, almost trance-like as he enters the room and slides the door shut behind him.

He’s trying so hard to keep the flowers in it’s getting next to impossible to breathe. His mind feels hazy, so he stays by the door and watches Eichi pour tea.

 _Like a gentleman…_ Leo thinks. _Weird._

Eichi turns back to him, eyebrows raised. “You’re looking awfully pale, Tsukinaga-kun. Are you feeling ill? Perhaps this makes me a hypocrite, given my own attitude toward my health, but perhaps you should go to the nurse…?”

He reaches out for Leo, then, and for a moment, Leo lets himself drown in the fantasy of letting Eichi touch him. Of collapsing into the emperor’s arms, fingers fisting in his jacket. Would Eichi run a hand through his hair or put it to his forehead, like his mother would do when he was young?

He feels the brush of fingers against his jacket, and that’s all he needs to be jerked back to reality. Leo flinches back and scoots to the side, not even trying to be subtle. Alarms are blaring in his head. This is the one thing he can’t do. 

_I won’t show weakness in front of him, not this time. I will not fall this time. I cannot tell him. Not now, not ever._

Eichi draws his hand back, an almost imperceptible emotion flashing across his face. Hurt.

Leo’s stomach heaves. Unable to stop them, yellow camellias and white chrysanthemums spill from his lips. He doubles over coughing, but not before he sees Eichi’s eyes widen in shock and horror.

“Don’t touch them,” Leo wheezes out between gags. “Just leave, go–”

“No,” Eichi says softly, barely able to be heard over Leo’s noise. “I know what they mean.”

Eichi stands there impassively, much like Izumi did, as Leo winds down. By the time he’s done coughing, some of the flowers are flecked with blood. Both boys ignore that.

Leo slumps to his knees, trying to catch his breath. Eichi watches him, face unreadable.

“Would it be impertinent of me to ask?” Eichi’s voice is soft and strange; it sounds half strangled.

Leo musters everything he has to send a glare his way.

“None of your business,” he mutters. _No._ He pushes himself to his feet and this time, Eichi doesn’t reach for him.

 _What am I doing? He’s right_ here... _I should_ say _something… No, no, no way, bad idea, not happening._

“Don’t say anything,” he hisses instead, as if his mind and mouth are no longer connected. He moves toward the door; his hand on the handle before he realizes what he’s doing.

“Tsukinaga-kun–” Eichi starts suddenly with a step forward, but Leo doesn’t hear him. He’s already out the door.

He runs blindly, letting his feet take him wherever they want to go. It’s getting harder and harder to breathe, but he doesn’t stop until he stumbles into the practice room and starts coughing up flowers again.

The flowers spill from his lips as the door clicks shut. The world blurs before his eyes; everything swirls red and black.

 _The camellias again,_ he notices. _And black lillies. How poetic._

Leo collapses, wheezing, onto the floor. The coughing won’t stop, and the more he coughs the more it hurts.

There’s no room in his lungs anymore. His throat is raw, and packed with vines. Thorns scrape along the roof of his mouth, blood dripping along with the petals. He turns his head, trying to breathe, and coughs up a few more flowers. Whole, this time.

_I really am a stupid king, huh? Too proud to confess even if it kills me…_

_I’m sorry, Sena,_ he thinks dully, head lolling to the side as the edges of his vision darken. _You were right… Can you forgive me for being so selfish, I wonder?_

He smiles involuntarily at that. He already knows the answer, after all.

_No._

“NO!”

* * *

Tsukasa is already there by the time Izumi reaches the practice room. He sits less than a meter away from Leo, knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around his shins. His eyes stare ahead, unblinking and unseeing, at Leo.

When Izumi notices the scene in front of his underclassman, his whole body goes cold. Leo lies peacefully on the tile, eyes closed and a gentle smile on his face. He could be sleeping. Izumi wants to believe he’s just sleeping. But he’s not, and Izumi knows it. A few red camellias, whole for once, and black lilies are scattered across the floor, a trail of blood leading from one to the other. Izumi feels like he’s suffocating.

Arashi arrives next, followed by Ritsu, both of them horrified by the sight. That’s all it takes for Izumi to find his voice again.

“Find Sagami-sensei,” he rasps, unable to stop his voice from breaking. Arashi turns wordlessly and runs. Tsukasa’s shoulders begin to shake.

“He looks like he’s sleeping. I thought he was sleeping. But no matter how much I tried, he wouldn’t wake up. Even–” Tsukasa muffles a sob with one arm. “Even Ritsu-senpai wakes up if I shake him!”

Izumi feels sick as he watches Ritsu kneel down, wrapping his arms around Tsukasa from behind.

 _I could’ve done something,_ he thinks. _Maybe if I’d approached him differently, I could’ve done something…_

The door slides open to reveal a panting Arashi and two very scary looking teachers. Sagami is kneeling on the floor beside Leo in a flash, searching for the pulse everyone knows isn’t there. Kunugi approaches Tsukasa and Ritsu, so Izumi turns to Arashi.

She’s crying silently, has been for who knows how long. Without a word, Izumi opens his arms, and Arashi takes the hint. Izumi buries his face in her shoulder as she hugs him back, taking what little comfort they can in the presence of the other. There’s no point in pretending they don’t get along, not now. There’s no point in pretending they’re anything other than terrified children watching their everyday lives fall apart before their eyes.

The rest of the day passes in a haze. School is cancelled, parents are called. The remaining members of knights go home, numb and oblivious to the world around them. They do not say a word.

* * *

Freezing January air ruffles Eichi’s hair as he crouches by the tombstone. He places his bouquet gently on the ground, not pausing to admire the sight of the sweet peas and shions against the new snow. 

The wind nips at his exposed fingers and face, not that he feels it. Eichi hasn’t felt much since that day two weeks ago, when Keito had called him at five in the morning to read him a newspaper headline.

_Idol and Composer Tsukinaga Leo Found Dead in Yumenosaki Practice Room._

Everything had clicked that morning. The wild look in Tsukinaga’s eyes as he hunched over, gagging flowers right there in front of him. The solemn voice of Kunugi over the PA system the day before, ordering them all to go home. Eichi had almost passed out.

Now, bitter air swirls around him as he gently runs his fingers over the carving on the stone before him.

“Tsukinaga-kun,” he breathes. His eyes are stinging, but Eichi ignores it. He’s probably imagining the sensation. Or maybe it’s the cold air, making them sting like that. That must be it. “Yumenosaki isn’t the same without you,” Eichi finds himself confessing. “And graduation seems so far off… I may just die of boredom before then, ahaha. I suppose that wouldn’t make you happy, would it? To be joined by me, of all people…” His eyes are definitely prickling now. Eichi takes this as his cue to leave.

“I’m sorry it had to end up this way, Tsukinaga-kun,” he whispers as he takes his fingers from the tombstone and stands up. _Who would’ve thought I’d outlive you?_

As he descends the stairs of the cemetery, Eichi looks up to see Izumi Sena standing at the bottom. He stops two steps above his classmate. He’s a wreck, but Eichi’s not surprised. He’d skipped school since the funeral, and based on his looks, he hadn’t slept since then either. Dark shadows circle his eyes. His hair hangs limp and unstyled around his face, which is a few shades paler than usual. There’s a piece of paper clenched in his hand, which he shoves roughly at Eichi.

“What’s this?” Eichi asks, all business as he takes the paper. 

“Unit disbandment form,” Izumi says tonelessly. “Needs a signature from the Student Council.”

“Ah…” Eichi eyes the paper. The writing is messy, barely legible. Some parts are smeared as if whoever had filled it out started crying partway through… “Of course. I’ll return it to you next week. I trust you’ll be back at school by then?”

Izumi nods.

“Good.”

Eichi makes a move to walk past him, but Izumi grabs him by the arm and stops him once he reaches the bottom of the stairs where Izumi stands. Eichi turns, a question in his eyes.

“At the funeral…” Izumi starts, voice rough with emotion. “His mother gave me his notebook. Said she thought it’d mean more to us… There was a note in it. It said–” he wavers momentarily. “He said… it was you. The flowers were for you.”

Eichi’s mind goes blank. The world around him seems to fade away, leaving him with nothing but Izumi Sena standing before him and the wind seemingly roaring in his ears. 

”Why?” Eichi asks, shock pitching his voice so low it’s hard to hear. Izumi hears him though.

”Fuck if I know,” Izumi snaps. Apparently convinced that he’d said all he had to say, Izumi shuffles past Eichi and begins his own climb up the stairs, leaving Eichi to contend with his thoughts at the bottom. Images swirl in his mind: Leo falling to his knees as exhilaration at his win wells up within Eichi; Leo standing before him, arms crossed and blue rose pinned to his uniform as he prepares to do battle with his own unit; Leo doubled over before him, spewing flowers on the floor of the student council room as he begs Eichi to leave. Those flowers had been for _him._

“Oh,” Eichi sighs to himself, staring at nothing. “Oh, Tsukinaga-kun…”

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry
> 
> (something to note: the idea of coughing up black lilies before u die was borrowed from [aster](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unhappyrefrain))


End file.
